


the abyss stares back

by ElasticElla



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Dark Clary Fray, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Multi, some gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 07:01:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9167452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: Clary made a monster. Thewhich oneechoes around her mind like a bad joke.





	

**Author's Note:**

> written for the [ficathon](http://ladygawain.livejournal.com/83816.html), come play \o/
> 
> this is toying with the prompt of if Clary were more like Valentine, albeit on a small stage

Clary made a monster. The _which one_ echoes around her mind like a bad joke. Is it a lover? There's the monster made in Simon, just a shovel and a death later. There's the monster she woke in Jace, practically born when he was too young. He never had a real chance, Clary can't take all the credit there. 

Then there's the monster in her: half-hidden, becoming, consuming all she wishes. 

Izzy says they fight monsters, says it with a straight face and means it. Clary doesn't know if she wants to steal her goodness and drape it around her neck, or laugh at the absurdity. 

Demons are made for evil Izzy says, but they're so much prettier than demons- they can bleed. They don't poof out of existence from a simple stab. (It's what's on the inside that counts.)

The accords don't allow vampires to kill mundanes or enslave them, but they say nothing about a girlfriend or a boyfriend slicing themselves open. Simon only balks the first time, Clary knows how to ease him, how to call his monster out and kiss his bloodied lips. (You can't leash a monster, Maryse says once, mouth thinned when Clary leaves to visit Simon again. Clary only gives her big mundane-like doe eyes, saying she has to try, that she can't give up on her first friend. Clary doesn't say the three never needed leashes, they run free.)

Clary wants her mother, she gets her. 

Clary wants her father to pay, she gets a war. 

Jace's devotion runs deep, and it's the darkness that makes Valentine believe he's true even after it's proven Jace isn't his son. (I knew I couldn't be, he admits later, much later to them. The only parents I ever believed I had were the Lightwoods, and I only really ever had Alec and Izzy.)

Clary offers him Maryse's head, Simon chiming in that he could change her into what she hates most, and Jace almost laughed, a real smile gracing his lips. 

Clary offers Simon a softer present, to bring his mother or sister into the shadow world, to gift them with the sight. (There is little it seems she cannot do these days whether it be by word or rune.) Simon considers it, truly. But they are happy and safe, are moving far far away from the place that killed him, and Simon won't take that away from them too. 

She has an abundance of parents with Jocelyn and Luke, but dinner with all five of them turns awkward and both the boys insist they're fine. Clary supposes it wasn't the best plan, but she wants to give them everything- anything they're lacking, anything they even dream of wanting. (It's not even slightly selfless. She created them, they are a part of her, a profane trinity.)

.

October twenty-fourth, mid-morning, Simon says it for the first time. 

He's fucking into Clary as Jace fucks him, letting Jace's hips decide their tempo. Clary already has her blood replenishing rune drawn when she bites her lip open, an impish smile gleaming up at him. Simon groans, takes the offering, canines poking through, drawing out more of her blood. He pauses as he drinks, doesn't want to lose control of his hips and break another bed. 

Jace leans down, thrusts slow, words pouring into his ears like molasses, “Take more, take it all. She likes it.” 

“God,” Simon moans, not even picking up on the word use until Clary's eyes go wide. 

“God,” he whispers again, all blasphemy, tongue soaked in her blood. 

That's what gives Clary the idea. 

.

She spends a few weeks playing detective. It means spending more time with Luke, which is always a mixed bag. She loves Luke, she does. But he's too smart for his own good, is too suspicious of how Clary's spending her free time and hanging around the station doesn't help that. He knows she's dating Jace and Simon, his werewolf nose made it an impossible secret, and he and Jocelyn were good about it. But he knows dating doesn't take that much time, and that she hasn't been working with the Clave since the war ended. 

Clary still gets enough information during his breaks and meetings, fakes doing her homework while he's there. (It's peaceful, she claims once, unlike home or the institute. And I get to see you, she adds, all dutiful daughter.) She has a whole drawer of files, picks out the first one for her lovers. 

She waits until they're all post-orgasmic, “I want to tell you about someone named Donald Bellwether.” 

Jace raises an eyebrow, and Simon just shrugs. “Okay.” 

Clary pulls out the file, spilling copies of crime scene photos all over the mess of blankets. It's all scans of missing children signs and gore, Simon can't look at either for long, turns to the police report still in Clary's hands. 

“This is what he does, to young children- Max's age,” she says. 

Jace growls, and Clary is careful not to smile. “These were taken a dozen years ago, he was just released on good behavior.” 

Simon gulps, “Maybe…” 

Clary points to the newest missing poster, “Kyle went missing two days ago, he fits the pattern and lives an hour away from Donald.” 

“We can hunt him,” Jace says, voice low. “He's human, with the three of us, it'll be easy.” 

“He'll go back to jail forever,” Simon says, nodding. 

And then Clary says it, the most dangerous questions of all, “What if I don't want him to? What if I want him to suffer?” 

Clary always gets what she wants. 

(His neighbors discover the body a week later, apologetic suicide note beside him. Kyle isn't found but the boys aren't thinking about that, not with the fresh taste of cold blooded murder.) 

.

The first is always the hardest, and the first was positively easy. 

If you kill enough demons, it isn't that hard to kill the worst of the humans. And if you crave enough blood, it isn't that hard to drink from those undeserving to live. 

Clary watches her boys work, satisfaction thrumming in her very bones. She has everything, she _is_ everything.


End file.
